Partner. It's a good word, Yoongi thinks, an accurate one. In everything that comes their way, Jungkook is his partner, at his side, facing down the future hand in hand. For now, though, he's a buoy, too, keeping Yoongi from sinking or floating away. Yoongi buries his face against Jungkook's shoulder, holding him tight, eyes shut against the threat of more tears. He hates crying in general, hates it more here in front of her. They've never asked him to be strong, either of them, but he wants to be for both of them.

Jungkook's hand in his hair is gentle and familiar, the soft warmth of fingers splayed against the back of his neck, and Yoongi curls his in Jungkook's shirt. He wants to deflect, his instinct to grow irritable and pull away. Instead he relaxes into Jungkook, safer in his arms than he is anywhere else.

It's melodramatic, he knows, to think he lost both of his parents in that fire, but it feels true. Here and now, though, he's loved, and it feels like permission to let go a little, to be sad.

"I want her to love you," he mumbles, throat tight. "And you would have loved her."